


Birthday

by thefalloftheauthor (egosoffire)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9229622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egosoffire/pseuds/thefalloftheauthor
Summary: Greg visits on Sherlock's birthday and he's high.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In which I want to drabble for Sherlock's birthday and end up writing angst...

Sherlock is high when Greg enters the flat, and the Detective Inspector doesn't miss a beat. He joins Sherlock on the floor, kneeling where Sherlock is laid back, head against a small decorative pillow. He leans over and checks his pulse, fingers pressing awkwardly against the thin wrist in his hand. Sherlock looks up at him with wide, hazy eyes.

"Hello there," he laughs. "What're you doing here?" 

"It's your birthday," Greg grumbles, reaching under Sherlock's back with a steady arm. "Came to give you a present. Where's the list?" 

He's known Sherlock long enough to know there's always a list, left for Mycroft's benefit. Mycroft isn't there, so he hasn't discovered his brother's condition yet. Greg hoists Sherlock into a seated position, propped against the sofa. He then sits down next to him. 

Sherlock gestures vaguely to the living room table. Greg picks it up and winces before his eyes scan down the first line. 

"Christ, Sherlock," he groans. "Why?" 

"Can't say," Sherlock nearly giggles. His eyes sparkle like he knows a hilarious joke. "I know you're going to call Mycroft's people now, and I forgive you for that. You're a good man, Greg. I'm sorry about all of this." 

Greg sighs and gives Sherlock a half hug with the arm around him. He takes out his mobile and dials Mycroft's medical team, the discreet one that keeps Sherlock out of hot water. He loves this man so much, and seeing him like this breaks his heart. It breaks him, deeply.

"I think I'm in love with you," Sherlock laughs, as Greg listens to the dial tone. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's okay by me..."

\--  
Sherlock returns to 221B the day after his birthday. Mycroft is furious, of course, and the shouting match they got into was one of their best. His head hurts, but on the surface, he's not any worse for wear. 

He enters the flat to find all evidence of his trip cleaned up. The syringes, the boxes, they're gone. Yet, there's a small package on the living room table - a small box in silver wrapping.

The tiny tag attached to the bow reads-- 

"Happy birthday Sherlock - love Greg."

Curious, he walks up to the box and takes it. He opens it slowly.

Inside is a tightly knit blue scarf, the initials SH embroidered carefully near the edge. The scarf is wrapped around a folded piece of note paper.

It reads --

Happy birthday Sherlock.   
I hope you like it. I spent hours trying to figure out what to get you, and I know you never keep warm enough this time of year. You don't take care of yourself sometimes and that drives me mad. I hope you're well.   
Love,  
Greg.

Sherlock sighs and puts on the scarf, wrapping it around his neck and closing his eyes. Even though it smells incredibly clean, there's a lingering sense of the man who'd given it to him all around him.

The man who inspires him to want to be better. The man he loves so deeply.

"Thank you Greg," he murmurs.


End file.
